Rainy Days
by Lara1221
Summary: Arthur takes Lucy to Diagon Alley for her eleventh birthday.


**Disclaimer: **First off, I don't own rain, which is on the cover. I also don't own anyone or anything in this story. *yay*. I love my life. I don't want to be JK Rowling at all, _absolutely not what are you talking about _...

**A/N: **I do not think there is enough Arthur in fanfiction in general, because he is so awesome and so many people do not think so. There is even less grandfather!Arthur, which is ridiculous because what is Arthur if not the perfect grandfather? I chose Lucy, too, because she's so often not written about. **Written for: (skip)**

**QL finals rnd 1: harpies' seeker: **"How does it rain cats and dogs? Do they ride on droplets or something?"**; categories comp: **fluff**; disney comp: gepetto: **write about Arthur**; hp chps comp: eye of the snake: **write about Arthur**; hunger games comp: capitol: **write about a celebration**;**

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><p><span>Rainy Days<span>

Lucy Weasley was eleven today.

Her Hogwarts letter had come by Owl Post this morning, and she tore it open with such excitement she nearly tore the letter as well. But it had come; the parchment was fresh, the ink was shiny, and she couldn't contain her excitement when Grandad had showed up this morning, asking her if she wanted to go to Diagon Alley.

There was an extra bounce in her step and an extra smile in her voice and Arthur Weasley could not help but beam at his granddaughter with every opportunity. Of course, Lucy was doing the same.

One of Lucy's hands moved to clutch Arthur's tightly, their fingers intertwined. Another year older would not change that, and when she squeezed his, he smiled. The other squeezed her Hogwarts letter and shopping list that she still couldn't believe had arrived this morning. Her eyes were darting frantically from Arthur, to the shops, to her list and back again, and her bouncing could be seen by anyone on the street.

That's what Arthur thought, at least.

And he could see the anxiousness too.

He sighed.

"You still haven't decided what you want to do for your birthday, have you?"

"Yes, I have. Nothing! I want to do _nothing for my birthday_. I want to go to Hogwarts. I want to shop for Hogwarts. Isn't that enough?"

"Rubbish! It's celebration day. C'mon, Luce. Just me and you. What would you like to do? More than anything else?"

"What do _you _want to do then, Grandad?"

"That's entirely up to you!"

"Not so easy, is it? Can't we just walk and talk?" she asked with a triumphant grin. Arthur laughed at the part of her that was so clearly Percy.

Lucy was looking up at her with those sparkling blue eyes, identical to his own, and that face he couldn't resist. Her hand was holding him tighter, and her smile was brighter than it had been in weeks. There was a surge of pride in his heart as he found that she really wanted to just be with him, and that was enough. He would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel special, and he briefly pondered what it would be like if he and Molly didn't have the large family that they had, one that wasn't so close, and full of love.

He decided, then, that it wasn't worth pondering.

Arthur placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"That would be lovely."

Lucy beamed, and they continued to walk together.

They hadn't taken two steps when the sky clouded in gray, thunder erupted, and rain began pounding onto the walk. "It's raining cats and dogs out here!" Lucy shouted, soaked and smiling.

Arthur laughed and backed away when she jumped in a puddle. "How does it rain cats and dogs? Do they ride on droplets or something?" he asked, though he had heard the phrase many times before.

"It's Mummy's Muggle madness," she replied with a wave of her hand, focusing on the way the rain fell when she looked straight up into the sky. "Look up Grandad!"

He mimicked her, laughing; in his many long years, he had never gotten tired of this, and he probably never would. Momentarily remembering that if Molly knew he was letting their grandchild catch a cold in the middle of a thundering rainstorm, she would have a fit, Arthur cast a charm above them, working as umbrella. Lucy pouted for a little bit, but then looked toward the wand shop, a dreamy look in her eyes. "God, I can't wait to do that."

"_Mummy's _Muggle madness?"

Lucy humpfed, and Arthur laughed. "That shop is probably crowded right now. How about a birthday present, instead?"

"I do not _know _what I want for my birthday!"

"Oh! Really? I didn't know!"

"Grandad, stop!" Arthur hunched over from laughter, as Lucy stood by with her arms crossed firmly against her chest. A smile tugged at her lips, though, and she burst out in giggles, too. He took a few deep breaths before nodding in the direction of Eeylop's. "How about an owl? So you don't forget to write me while you're off having fun at Hogwarts?"

"I'm not going to forget to write you, whether I have my own owl or not."

"I don't know about that. Uncle Bill said he would write me every single day. I received seven letters, all of them within the first week, through his entire Hogwarts career! And your older sister isn't much better!"

She took his bigger hands in her smaller ones and looked into his eyes with such seriousness that Arthur laughed again. She shot him a _what's so funny? _look before breathing deeply.

"I, Lucy Beatrix Weasley, swear to write every day—"

"Perhaps every week would be a bit better; don't want to have you overworked, now."

She rolled her eyes in a way so reminiscent of his wife he had to do a double take. "I swear to write every _week_, without fail...if I can have that adorable owl in the window that looks exactly like Uncle Ron's Pig." Her smile was as mischievous as her Aunt Ginny's, and he melted as he had so many times before.

"It would be my pleasure."

"I'll always write, you know I can't stop that," said Lucy, as they left the Emporium with the owl that would possibly annoy his son the most.

Arthur beamed at her. "I wouldn't doubt you for a minute, Luce, you know that."

"You've never had a reason to!" There was Percy, again.

Arthur's booming laugh mimicked the rain that pounded around them.

He received a letter each week that year, and wrote just as many in return. Each was signed with Lucy's love, and he kept them as close as he could to his heart.


End file.
